I came to Vancouver three years ago with a simple plan: study for a year, return to Japan, find a job, and start a new chapter of my life. But during that year in Vancouver, something unexpected happened. I went on a few hikes and visited Banff National Park. One particular hike stands out—the one that changed everything.
I went with a friend, and we took the gondola to Sulphur Mountain. It cost about 100 bucks, which seemed expensive at the time, but the experience was priceless. We reached the summit just as the sun was setting, and the sky was transforming from pink to orange and finally to the deep blue of night.
Witnessing this breathtaking scene of the Canadian Rockies from the top of a mountain brought me to tears for the first time—just from seeing a view. I didn’t know why I was crying. It was a moment of pure beauty, and it was a game-changer for me. That experience made me decide to stay longer in Canada, rather than returning to Japan to start a typical 9-to-5 life. I wanted to explore more of the natural world. Life is too short to spend eight hours a day working until retirement. You need to enjoy the moment and see the world.
Sometimes I ask myself, what’s the point of hiking? After all, you hike to a summit, take some photos, then return to the trailhead and go home. So, what’s the point? Is it meaningless? Just a nice picture and that’s it? But for me, the answer lies in the process of hiking itself. I enjoy every part of the journey—the slow, steady pace, the middle ground where you start to feel the strain, and finally reaching the peak. It’s the process itself that I love.
I read a book by Jimmy O. Yang called How to American, and in it, he said something that resonated with me:
“Like most people in this world, I thought achieving my goals would solve all my life’s problems. It didn’t change much at all. There’s satisfaction in achievement, but the excitement is in the chase.”
I feel like hiking is a metaphor for life. You’re always going somewhere, and just like in life, the journey is important. In hiking, you can’t just get bored with the passage of time. You need to savor each moment, and maybe that’s why I love hiking.
Another reason I hike is that I’ve noticed how much time people spend on their tiny devices, scrolling through social media. It tires me out. But when I hike, there’s no signal, no internet, no social media, no WhatsApp, no phone calls. It’s a physical detox from the digital world.
And then there’s the fear—the fear that comes from hiking dangerous trails, scrambling over rocks, and confronting the very real possibility of slipping and falling. That fear reminds me that I’m alive, that there’s something out there much bigger than myself. It’s a feeling I cherish.
